The Whims Of Love
by livixbobbiex
Summary: Resolving himself to simply lie to the Goddess of Beauty, Yuuri kissed the man's temple, filling his mind with good dreams, before exiting the room with haste. He didn't even notice the arrow he'd accidentally fallen upon, sticking out of the centre of his chest, until he was halfway back to Olympus. Or: A mythology adaptation where Yuuri Eros and Viktor is Psyche
1. You're As Beautiful As Endless

"I have an important mission for you," the goddess shifted in her imperial throne, surrounded by the pearly columns and clouds of Olympus. "It shouldn't take you long."

Obediently, Yuuri bowed, more than used to the whims of Love. "Yes, My Lady."

Flashing her brilliant smile, Aphrodite tossed her hair. "Great! There's this mortal boy... I want you to shoot him with one of those arrow things and force him to love… hmm, I'm not _sure_. Ooh! The most hideous monster you can find! Yes! Do that!"

Yuuri hated missions like this, truly. Driving innocent mortals to ruin was not what his arrows of desire were meant for. This didn't however stop the other gods, who didn't care about manipulating mortals for their own crazy agendas, whilst casually enjoying the luxuries of the Heavens, ignoring the suffering results of their meddling.

Pushing his luck, he raised his head. "My Lady, may I ask why?"

"Hmm," she pursed her lips. "The man was gifted with beauty. Too much beauty. The foolish mortals have taken to worshiping him above _me_!" Staring him down, she rolled her eyes. "Spare me that look Eros, I can't punish _every_ mortal. Collateral damage."

With a slight crash, the Messenger God landed in the Olympian throne room, winged scandals scuffing against the marble floor. "The last time you said that, there was a ten year war."

She tossed her hair once more. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sensing his instruction was over, and a meeting with the major gods was about to take place, Yuuri willed his bow and arrow to materialise in his hand. Calling his dark wings to sprout from his back, he took off, gliding downwards and away from the brilliant home of the gods. As his feathers stretched in the sunlight, he was joined by laughing Auras, who loved to follow gods to the Earth in hopes of teasing them. His wings cut straight through the clouds as he swooped to the bottom of the mountain, flying properly over fields and fields of trees. He took the flight leisurely, staring down at the world of the mortals in amazement, so night had already arrived by the time he reached the palace.

As he approached the window, Yuuri prepared his bow, wanting to make the process as quick as possible. Unfortunately, the mortal was turned over in his bed, and Yuuri couldn't shoot clearly at his heart. When he stepped inside the room, one of the floorboards creaked, causing the mortal to roll over, still deep in his sleep.

Yuuri was instantly taken aback by his beauty. The mortal's looks easily matched that of the gods'. Heavily, Yuuri understood why others had turned their worship away from Aphrodite, and to the man lying a few feet from him. His skin was creamy and unblemished, the look of soft morning clouds, and his face smooth and structured like a work of art. Overshadowing all of this, however, was the man's shimmering silver locks. It was long, soft looking, and Yuuri couldn't help himself, reaching over the brush it out of his face.

So distracted by the man's ethereal beauty, Yuuri lost his balance and tripped before his wings could catch him. As his knees hit the floor, Yuuri's vision immediately went cloudy around the edges. His chest constricted, before beginning to beat unbearably. When he set eyes upon the man once more, Yuuri knew that no matter what, he had to have him. Aphrodite be dammed, he couldn't set the man up for marriage to a gruesome beast. This mortal deserved not only the world, but the entirety of Olympus and all its pleasures.

But Yuuri couldn't stay here, couldn't bother the poor mortal. He knew, deep inside, that he was destined for an existence without love. It would be unfair to expect a mortal, especially one as blessed as he, to even tolerate Yuuri as a potential partner. No, instead, Yuuri allowed him the gift of freedom. Resolving himself to simply lie to the Goddess of Beauty, Yuuri kissed the man's temple, filling his mind with good dreams, before exiting the room with haste.

He didn't even notice the arrow he'd accidentally fallen upon, sticking out of the centre of his chest, until he was halfway back to Olympus.

"Vitya," his adviser said sternly to him. "Please send them away."

From his throne, the prince peered at the long line of citizens. "Maybe I don't want to."

Yakov narrowed his eyes. "Just because I don't have the legal authority to force you doesn't mean you shouldn't listen to me."

"Why?" He asked without missing a beat. "Because you're my elder?"

Anybody with eyes could see that Yakov was raging at this comment. "Why don't you just _pick_ one of these endless suitors and be done with it?!"

Sighing to himself, Viktor stood, stretching himself out as he did so. "None of them will come in. They don't actually want to _talk_ to me. They just want to stare."

Not bothering to wait for a response, Viktor straightened out his shirt sleeves and made for the gates. Nodding his consent to the guards, they worked on pulling the gates open, exposing Viktor fully to the awaiting crowd. The reception every time he left the palace was the same as it had been since the day he came of age. For miles, all he could hear were the gasps and screams of his citizens, all fighting each other in their places for a better look at his face. It was so bad, in fact, that Viktor hadn't been able to go anywhere for years without at least two guards at his sides to hold back the crowds.

It wasn't as if he hadn't _tried_ , or met with any of them. In fact, for the first few months of it he'd greatly enjoyed the attention, much to the annoyance for Yakov and his two younger siblings. Being hailed as the most beautiful entity in all of the world's existence was more than a compliment, and Viktor had soaked it up as easily as the sun's bright rays. He'd been warned, of course, on the dangers of hubris, but Viktor had merely brushed it off. Truly, he had never put himself on the level of the gods, no matter what he heard some people shout at him.

Mostly ignoring the crowds, he swung his arms casually, strolling through the countryside of the country that was destined to be his, as the oldest son to the royal family, some day once his parents passed. That was, however, dependant on him finding a good marriage for security. Deep down, he knew Yakov was indeed right. Now that his sister Mila had been engaged to a foreign King, the pressure was on Viktor to find someone to share his rule more than ever.

The one problem was that no matter how many people admired him, none of them actually wanted to love him. Painters and sculptors came to copy his form for their works. Women came to gawk at his 'godlike' beauty. Men came to dream away debauchery they were too afraid to commit. Yet not one person tried to hold a conversation. Whenever Viktor had tried, they'd quickly become bored, or else obviously been too busy gazing at him to pay attention. He was convinced, truly and utterly, that he was destined to a life without love and affection.

As he came ever closer to the temple of Aphrodite, the crowds thinned out. He made the trip daily, finding the idea of worship for the one who controlled the force of love his only solace and hope. At a time, people had questioned him, wondering why he'd even bother with that old goddess. Some had even gone as far as to cite him as the new chosen deity of Beauty, but of course Viktor had deflected their claims. Over time, the citizens of his country had gotten used to his daily trick, content to think of it as one of his odd quirks.

The steps, as they had been for many years, were dirty, covered in grime and weeds and wild vines covered the once brilliantly white marble pillars. He'd been too young, of course, to see the temple back when it was truly attended to, but he knew from the outside at least that it had once been a thing of beauty. The inside was dark and damp, lit by only a few candles. As he approached the altar, only the faintest aroma of honey sweet incense filled his nostrils.

Kneeling at the altar, Viktor brushed away the loose ashes covering it. Though he did this every day, it seemed that maintaining the temple was a losing battle. Once he was satisfied it was clear enough, he worked on pouring the sacred libations, sacrifices to the love goddess, before bowing his head in prayer. It was nothing wholly specific, exactly, not anymore anyway. Instead, Viktor prayed for general guidance and success in his love life, begging for someone suitable to marry soon.

Midway through his prayers, Viktor got the disconcerting feeling he was being watched. Hoping Aphrodite wouldn't mind too much about the interruption, Viktor got to his feet, pulling his sword out from its side. Unlike most people in his position, Viktor had yet to experience nearly being assassinated, so a sick kind of excitement rushed through his veins.

"There's no need for weapons in this place," a voice echoed.

Viktor kept his grip firm. "Please," he asked, "come out into the light."

Obediently, a figure made her way out of the shadows. She was old looking, and dressed in rags, holding one of the sacred candles in her arms. "You come here every day."

Sensing little threat, Viktor sheathed his blade. "The Goddess hasn't answered me yet."

The woman smiled softly. "No, I don't suppose she would."

"It's not fair!" Viktor complained. "What have I done to offend love?! If not a marriage, I don't understand why she can't give me at least some kind of _answer_."

She looked him up and down. "Do you know what I am?"

"No," Viktor admitted. "I'm sorry. I try to keep up to date with all the roles of my citizens."

Reaching towards him, the woman waited for Viktor to nod his consent, before taking his smooth hand in her wrinkled one. "Back in the day this temple was glorious. Most of the time it was well lit and attended, full of worship for Love."

"I remember it," he agreed.

"Most of the other girls have abandoned it now," she sighed, "but I decided to remain loyal. We once swore our lives and dedication in service for the Love Goddess. Which is why I don't care to see you extend your suffering. I haven't been in her presence myself, but I don't think she'll ever reveal herself to you in that way. If an answer is all you desire, perhaps you should journey to Delphi."

 _Delphi_. The word rang clear in Viktor's mind. He'd never considered visiting it himself, too caught up in his daily royal duties. There were plenty of stories, though, about the mystical centre of the Earth. Many men had visited and come back dressed in garlands, speaking of strange voices in the mist and confusing riddles.

"Thank you," Viktor breathed, immediately making his mind up, and raced out of the temple. Though he couldn't exactly run the entire length back to the palace, he walked with a spring in his step, already trying to figure out the finer details of his journey. As soon as he came close, he was again hailed by the crowd, shouting his name like a mantra.

"Please," he addressed them, "save your prayers."

"Viktor!" A small girl shouted from the crowd. "Viktor! OH MY GOD HE LOOKED THIS WAY!"

Smiling as he did so, Viktor flipped his long hair, which was currently tied up neatly, and winked at here, eliciting more screams and causing the girl to faint. Whilst people were distracted trying to revive her, Viktor managed an almost effortless passage to the palace. Sighing to himself as he went, he made it through the gates and rid himself of his sword.

"You're late," the all too familiar voice of his younger brother bit through the air sharply.

Viktor undid the fastening of his hair. "I am?"

Yuri folded his arms. "Don't play dumb with me, bastard. You know you promised me."

The colour drained from Viktor's face.

The smaller boy shook with anger. "You actually did forget."

He decided to play it off with a smile. "I'll show you some swordplay when I get home from my trip, Kitten, promise."

"Stop calling me that! And, what trip?"

"But Yuri~," Viktor deflected and slung his arm around his brother, "it suits you. You like it better than fairy, no?"

Yuri grumbled all the way to the banquet hall, where their servants were already making the dinner preparations. Immediately, they were ushered to their seats as plates of meat, cheeses, and fruits were presented to them. As the rest of the company settled in, the conversation was mellow and light, much like the diluted wine he was served, pausing briefly once the bard was sent in to sing his stories of love and war.

Once the festivities began to wear down, Viktor stood before they could disband. "I have decided," he said, "that I'm going to take a trip to Delphi."

The room was utterly silent, save for the sound of Yakov spitting out his drink.

His mother looked at him through downcast eyes. "Why, Vitya?"

"I was advised," he responded confidently, "that only in Delphi will I find who I'm destined to marry."

Following a few excited murmurs from crowd, his own father, the king, also rose to his feet. "Well," he set down his chalice, "if that's what you think is best. You're old enough now to follow your own judgements. Yuri," he addressed his youngest child, "you are a man now. You will take over Viktor's duties whilst he's away."

Yuri flushed from head to toe. "I'll do it!" He exclaimed just a bit too loudly. "I mean, I will try my best to fill my brother's role."

Supportively, Viktor nudged him, before bowing to his father and finally taking his leave. Once he'd reached his own quarters, he breathed a sigh of relief to finally be alone. Incredibly thankful his family had taken his decision so well, he began to pack some of the supplies he'd need for the trying journey. His mother, he knew, would also make sure he had a supply of wine and food to take with him.

Once satisfied he had enough prepared for the journey, Viktor leant against the window and gazed up at the constellations he would soon be using to navigate his way to answer. His heart truly caught in his throat, then, at the prospect that he'd finally be leaving the safety of his home. There was also a kind of peace running through him. Finally, if just for a few days, he wouldn't be surrounded by his 'fans'. He'd get to be alone.

As if he'd noticed the sentiment, Viktor's dog yapped, jumping up on hind legs to try and get his attention.

Viktor came over to him and scratched his ears. "Of course you get to come, Makkachin."

Content with that, the two of them made their way to Viktor's bed. Otherwise, he would have found it hard to stay still as he lay down, but Makkachin's steady breathing helped him relax as he held him in his arms, praying that sleep and the morning would find him soon.

"Yuuri," his friend looked at him in concern. "Oh Yuuri! You look awful!"

"Phichit," Yuuri choked out, wincing at his impalement. "I messed up."

Not wasting any time, he yanked the arrow out of Yuuri's sternum, allowing it to dissolve in his hands. Using his influence over medicine, he healed the wound as best he could, allowing the magical properties of ichor, the golden blood of the immortals, to do the rest.

He wiped Yuuri's sweaty forehead. "What did you do?!"

Yuuri looked away from Olympus out to the night sky. "I think I've fallen in love."


	2. I Want You So It Scares Me To Death

With her hands on her hips, Yuuko stared Phichit's form up and down. "I haven't seen him in days."

Phichit gulped. Yuuko may have only been a harmless spirit when compared to the likes of a god like him, but she also cared deeply about Yuuri's wellbeing. "I don't think it's a good idea..."

At the sound of Yuuri's high pitched wailing, Yuuko pushed the god aside, storming into his bed chambers. "Yuuri! I have no idea what's wrong with you, but…" she trailed off. "What is that?"

With eyes full of tears, Yuuri peered up from the small well like structure. "Nothing! I promise! Nothing!"

Before he could swipe through the image to clear it, Yuuko was at his side, grabbing his arms with her impressive strength. As her eyes set upon the picture, her breath caught. Displayed in the water was the most beautiful man her eyes had ever set upon. She was almost certain he was an immortal in the flesh, capturing both a stunning feminine beauty but yet an earthy manliness underneath it.

"Who's that?" She managed to ask.

Having appeared silently at her side, Phichit tapped her shoulder, curing her of the nosebleed she didn't realise she'd started. "He doesn't even know."

Yuuri cleared the wetness from his cheeks. "He's been travelling for days now. _Days_."

Yuuko leant on the fine marble containing the water. "Whoever he is, he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

After Yuuri shot him a helpless look, Phichit cleared his throat. "Summary: Aphrodite thinks so too so she tried to get to curse him but then lover boy here took one look at him and accidentally struck himself with an arrow so he's kind of weirdly obsessed right now which really isn't healthy and-"

The god of love shot up without warning. "I have to go to him!"

"Yuuri-" Phichit tried to warn.

Paying him no attention, Yuuri began to pace around his chambers. "But how could I face him! He's too beautiful and I'm a _monster_ in comparison. What would I even say?! I couldn't just show up and tell him how amazing he is and that I've been watching him for days now because that's really super creepy and I don't want to scare him off before I've even talked to him-" Yuuri paused briefly to gasp for air "- and he probably wouldn't even like me anyway because he's a mortal and I'm a god and not even a very important one and he probably has way better things to do such as go on nice journeys in the sun with his adorable poodle."

"So," Phichit said to Yuuko, "in conclusion, Yuuri has decided to mope in his room for all of eternity."

"I'm not moping!"

"Yuuri," he replied gently, "you're staring at your not-boyfriend doing mundane Earth things and crying about it."

Yuuri pouted. "It's not mundane! He rescued a squirrel earlier, Phichit! A branch had fallen in the wind and its poor arm was trapped so he set it free and gave it a little nut on the way!"

"Oh," Yuuko rested a comforting hand on Yuuri's back. "I think you have a problem."

Miserably, he finally cleared the image with his hand. Yuuko and Phichit were right; he really did have a problem. He wanted nothing more than to see the mortal again in person, to stare into his eyes (which he'd discovered, through hours of staring at his image, were a blue more magnificent than the skies of Olympus itself), to share his very being with the man. He was horrifically confused. Though he was more than aware the arrows of desire had made his longing worse than it should have been, Yuuri couldn't deny that he'd fallen for the mortal at first sight.

"He'd hate me," Yuuri concluded. "I'd be nothing but a shadow at his side."

Hesitantly, Phichit spoke up. "Not that I want to encourage your pining or anything, but Yuuri, you're literally the god of _sexual desire_."

The god blushed. "So?"

Sighing, Phichit felt pain on his best friend's behalf. "Maybe, and only if you act like a normal person, you could still be his lover. Most of the other gods do it, you know?"

Somewhat bitterly, Yuuri cast his gaze on Phichit. "You mean like Hyacinthus, Acalle, Rhoeo, Cassandra…"

Phichit winced. "So I might not be the best example to follow for Healthy Relationships 101… but I mean it! Maybe a little love affair would be good for you."

He looked wistfully around the room. "I couldn't anyway. He's heading to Delphi to find out some prophecy at the moment."

"Delphi?" Phichit's voice raised by almost an octave. Luckily, Yuuri completely missed the mischievous expression that followed as the gears of a plan began to spin inside his head.

Soon to be approaching his final destination, Viktor had decided to take a brief break underneath a large tree, supplying him and Makkachin with a perfect amount of shade. He frowned as he bit into his bread and oils, recognising that he would definitely be needing some more supplies once finally reaching the mystic place of Delphi.

Sighing as he did so, he sacrificed the last of the meat to Makkachin, scratching him between the ears as he ate it up happily, not even taking the time to enjoy his meal. After he finished, the dog yawned, resting his head tiredly on Viktor's lap. Feeling sympathy, Viktor let him properly rest. His own limbs were so sore from walking for so long that he was sure they'd fall off if Delphi wasn't just half a day away.

He was just leaning against the rough bark for support as his eyelids began to droop when he was startled by the clearing of a throat. "Excuse me," a beautiful woman approached, cocking her hip to the side seductively, "I'm awfully lost."

Viktor considered the woman. "I'm not from anywhere around here, sorry. You're welcome to accompany me the rest of the way to Delphi, though, and find better advice there."

The basket she was carrying slipped from her hands. "Whoops!" She bent down to retrieve it, making a show of her body, before snapping up with haste. "Thank you, truly. Would you like some kind of payment for your generosity?" She came even closer. "Or maybe a reward present."

Paying that little attention, Viktor hopped to his feet. "It's nothing."

Before his very eyes, the woman disappeared into a shower of golden sparkles, before her form was replaced with a man (admittedly, sporting nearly as many curves). "Hmm," he said, "I can help you."

Fear spiked up his limbs, causing his hairs to stand up. Protectively, Makkachin also hopped to his feet, coming to stand in between Viktor and what he guessed was probably a deity. Not being able to think of a much better option, Viktor tipped his head.

The man waved it off. "It's _alright._ Sorry about that, cutie, it's just kind of a thing that we have to test to see if you're a good person before we can help you and blah blah it's boring."

"W-who are you?" He asked curiously.

The being in front of him half-smirked. "Your people worship me as the god Hermes, but you can call me _Chris_ ," he dragged out the syllables of his name.

"Chris?" Viktor repeated.

"Mmhmm," he casually responded, "a lot of us don't like our old ancient names, so we go by our own mortal ones. I think mine suits me. Anyway! I'm here to accompany you. Watching in your progress for a friend, rather."

He considered it. "You want to accompany me?"

Chris shrugged. "I'm the god of travellers. You are currently travelling. And it's taking a while. You know, all things considered I'm an advocate for lasting as long as possible," he sighed, "but I owe him a favour so I'm speeding things up a little." With a touch to Viktor's shoulder, the scene around him zoomed, and suddenly he was outside a grand looking temple.

Before Viktor could recover from his dizziness, Chris shot a man dressed like a priest some kind of look, which caused his gaze to fall hard upon Viktor. He'd been prepared to be interviewed before getting to meet with the actual Oracle, where his problem first had to be declared legitimate. A hand went down on his ass, smacking it lightly.

"This was fun," the god's eyes raked over Viktor's form. "You're on your own now. Call me sometime though, if you ever want a little more entertainment." Without warning, he disappeared into thin air.

With nothing else left, Viktor approached the priest, attempting to show only confidence. Rather than actually asking him the expected questions, however, the man just stood aside and silently motioned the temple, allowing Viktor passage. Intimidated by his meeting with a literal god, Viktor tentatively began to walk, his steps forming an uneven rhythm on the cool marble floor. This temple to Apollo, the deity with domain over prophecy, was a far cry from what was dedicated to Aphrodite. It was well tended, the smell of incense and libations strong enough to recognise.

Performing his best attempt at clearing his mind, Viktor approached the Oracle, who appeared to be waiting for him at the far point of the temple. She made no attempt to indicate she was going to open conversation, instead standing still as a statue. Trying to regain his confidence, Viktor got as close to her as he felt was safe to.

Her eyes flashed. "Ask."

Viktor cleared his throat. "I'm sure that I've been cursed by Aphrodite to never find love. Is there anything I can do to please the goddess?"

As the Oracle began to open her mouth, her body began to convulse and spasm uncontrollably for a moment, before her eyes flashed and shone a brilliant grey colour, and she straightened herself out. When she spoke, however, her voice was that a man."

"Okay," she or he (Viktor wasn't really sure how to take the situation) started, "I don't normally do this, but I need to deliver a message on behalf of a close friend. Oh!" They remembered. "You can call me Phichit, by the way."

Feeling somewhat weary from all of this, Viktor looked the form of the Oracle over. "Can you help me…"

"Phichit," he repeated slowly. "You probably heard about me as Apollo but it's a label I've been trying to shake right now. Anyway! Wait, uhm," he paused. "Actually, I'm not sure how my prophets usually do this."

"A riddle," Viktor supplied helpfully. "At least, I heard that it's usually a riddle."

Phichit, weirdly possessing the woman's body, considered this for a moment. "Seems pointless. Anyway, you want to know about marriage, right?" The body grinned. "Well, you came to the right place. It's time to face Phichit Chulanont's number one master matchmaking quiz, guaranteed to help you find your true love at least 78% of the time."

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Viktor was sat in a comfortable chair, and he was holding a wax tablet.

"It's easier," he explained, "to catch your responses when you're more relaxed. So, let's start simple. Full name?"

The situation set in, then, and Viktor knew the only way to help was to play along. "Prince Viktor of the House Nikiforov," he said with pride.

Phichit nodded. "Ahuh… When it comes to lovers, any gender preference?"

He considered it for a moment. "I don't mind."

"Good," he said with more enthusiasm. "Good! So, what do you look for most in a partner?"

Viktor honestly wasn't sure exactly how long it went on, but for a considerable amount of time, he responded to all kinds of evasive questions. Phichit really grilled him, asking anything from his favourite food to his ideal date to whether he much enjoyed being tied down whilst making love or not. He answered all as honestly as possible, though there were a few there he hadn't even considered for himself, with relationships being so impossible for him.

Finally satisfied, Phichit nodded, scribbling a final few notes. "Well, Viktor, you sound great. I'd be happy to give you that super important prophecy now."

He leant forward in his chair. "Please. I'm desperate for your help, or at the very least an answer."

"Hmmm," the god pondered for another few moments. "Well… Oh wait I know! Yes, you're destined to be married to a monster whose power both men and the gods fear."

"A monster?" Viktor paled at the thought.

Sensing his fear, Phichit waved his arms in disagreement. "Nonono, I mean technically, but he's real nice, I promise. He'll treat you like a nice husband should."

"Oh…" Viktor thought. "I'm not sure how many questions I'm allowed to ask, but, do you know when I'll meet this monster?"

Thinking again for a moment, Phichit's expression brightened. "I guess you could come to that big mountain close to where you live, you know the one? Yeah, come there alone one night and someone will pick you up and soon you'll be right on your way to the love of your life! I hope you enjoyed your prophecy and have a nice afternoon!"

"Wait!" Viktor called out, but suddenly the chair disappeared, and he was knocked down to the floor as the form of the Oracle began to spasm again, eyes changing to a more neutral brown colour. She looked visibly shaken and Viktor knew there were no answers left for him. With a heavy heart of the prospect of marrying a monster for the rest of his life, he began to consider how he'd break the news to his family.

Phichit immediately began to curse himself once his consciousness had returned to his actual body. He should have come up with a much more convincing prophecy than that! Calming himself, he thought on all the information he'd managed to collect. Viktor, in his humble opinion, was the soulmate Yuuri had needed all his existence. Now he just needed to keep his best friend from finding out what he'd done, or else he'd probably be forced to fall in mad love with a hamster again.


	3. No One's Really Sure Who's Letting Go

Heart heavy with sorrow, Viktor came in sight of the palace that had been his home all of his life. Ignoring the crowd excited for his return, he approached the large gates. On the signal of his hand, the servants pulled them open, allowing him passage inside. He had no idea what he was going to tell his family. They were likely expecting brilliant news, a marriage to some far off princess who would bring them fame and fortune, or even a coupling with some deity.

Though the prophecy hadn't been entirely explicit, Viktor could safely assume his marriage meant leaving his home, possibly forever. An event even more unsettling, he realised, as a result would be his forced abdication. Since birth, Viktor had had his destiny of 'heir to the kingdom' all mapped out for him. Not that he'd ever really minded. He'd never lived a life without that pressure, so truthfully, his duty to the crown was the only reality he knew. His stomach twisted at the thought of handing that all to Yuri, who had at least been able to look forward to a life of his own choices.

"Vitya!" His mother shouted excitedly, rushing over to him in moments.

Viktor struggled to breathe in the midst of the bone crushing hug. "I'm home," he said softly.

She released him and reached up, taking the traditional wreath off his head. "Did the Oracle bring you news?"

Wincing, Viktor lowered his head. "I'll wait until everyone's gathered. I had a safe journey, though, as promised."

Embracing her son one final time, the Queen motioned their many servants to take Viktor's belongings up to his own chambers. Without much of a moment to think about it, he was ushered off to the baths, stripped down by two of the older nurses as another three made sure the water suited his liking. He stepped in and settled himself down to the water that was warm without being scalding, the scent of herbs, spices, and salts filling his nostrils.

A nurse came up to wash his hair for him, but Viktor brushed her off, always preferring to maintain it himself. Eventually everyone seemed to get the message, and finally Viktor was left alone to relax. He sighed, watching his knees as they poked just out of the water. All things considered, Viktor knew he could ignore the prophecy. He hadn't been given any kind of time limit, so he could, he supposed, find his husband whenever he was actually ready. Thinking on that for a moment, Viktor knew that was what he wanted. He could live out the remainder of his life and fulfil the duty he was born into, before anything truly had to happen.

Finally full of resolve, he wrung his long hair out and got out of the bath before drying himself off. In comparison to the rough, practical clothes he'd had to wear for his journey, the feel of the silk-like fabric from court against his skin was practically a blessing. Briefly admiring his reflection in a shiny bit of metal, he secured his hair in a knot and realised he didn't look weathered much by his trip at all. Accepting his fate, Viktor journeyed back to the life of the palace, guided by the sound of music and chatter.

The banquet hall stood as he entered, falling completely silent as Viktor walked, much like nothing had changed at all, and took his regular chair at his father's side. He nodded to the room, and sat down, beginning to pick at the delicious food that was laid out for him. Quickly, he became aware that nobody else had started eating again, and their eyes were trained on him.

"Son," his father finally said, "we're all anxious to hear about your trip."

Viktor chewed slowly on his piece of pork. "I can't get married."

The room broke into pandemonium.

"What do you mean?!" Yakov raised his voice.

Viktor shrugged, continuing to eat. "The Oracle said that I wasn't fated to marry any person."

"Vitya," his mother said sadly, peering at him with pity.

The King scanned the room. "Nonsense. No. This Kingdom has suffered from too many false prophecies. I rule here, not the Oracle's supposed gods. You will be married immediately."

Finally sitting up in his chair, Viktor looked up in horror. "Papa, you can't."

He was brushed off without second thought. "You're old enough." Two servants were signalled over. "Make an announcement right now. Any young woman who desires to marry my sun must arrive at the palace gates at dawn."

Once the meal was over, Viktor continued to protest. But his people were not a pious one. In fact, they actively went against the gods from time to time. It was probably how Viktor had ended up cursed, promised already in marriage to a monster. He couldn't bring himself to tell his family that, who he knew deep down only wanted the best for him. Begrudgingly, he went to bed that night. Why was it that he felt like he was committing some act of betrayal? He remembered the prophecy, and it hadn't said anything about the monster being his first marriage. It would be fine, he reasoned, if he appeased his family for a little while and lived out a normal life.

Obediently, when the rays of light were just shining down on the Kingdom, Viktor appeared at the gates. He wasn't entirely surprised to find no crowd actually waiting there. People could still be seen, of course, waiting further away from the gates, too timid to actually come forward. Not wanting to be married in the first place, Viktor wasn't much offended by the lack of suitors. Yakov, however, had been instructed to supervise the whole thing.

"I don't understand this," he grumbled, "even if they disliked you, who wouldn't want to be Queen?"

He was about to simply turn and return indoors, when one woman, thankfully not too far away from Viktor's own age, strode up to the gates. She was dressed oddly for a citizen (in a pale robe like attire that was covered with intricate flowers), but hadn't done much more than that to alter her appearance. Apparently above bowing, she tipped her head in recognition, and eyed the servants to pull open the gates. As she did so, a crowd of the women who had been silently stalking the scene, all seemed to gain the confidence to approach themselves, and stampeded towards the palace.

The gates had been opened, so they pooled into the courtyard, screaming a mantra of Viktor's name. Had Viktor been younger, he might have pulled his sword on them in terror, but he was more than used to the recognition. Instead, he smiled and waved, causing a few of them of them to swoon. Yakov looked rather annoyed, but nodded, job done apparently.

"CONDUCT YOURSELVES IN THIS PALACE," he barked loudly. "The Prince will choose one of you."

"I just want to see him closer!" One girl screamed.

"Please Viktor! Let me worship you!" She was probably the same age as Yuri.

"I carved a statue!"

"Viktor!"

Viktor looked them all over, and cleared his throat. "Who actually wants to marry me? Not just to look at me."

"He spoke! Isn't his voice the best?!"

"We're in the presence of a God! We're not worthy!"

Not a single hand shot up, or else any indication was given. Finally, the guards were given a nod, and the women were pushed back and out into the city, wailing that they hadn't had enough time to stare at Viktor all up close. In the final group to be removed, however, one woman managed to wrestle herself forward.

She cleared her throat confidently, and Viktor recognised her as the firs. "Please, I'd like a conversation with the Prince."

That was the first Viktor had ever heard of any request like it. The guards looked unsure, but he nodded his consent, and the strange woman was lead forward, much to the heated complaints of all the other women. When they were finally alone, Viktor buzzed with excitement, not necessarily at the idea of marrying, but at the concept of someone being interested in him beyond his looks. Sending a pointed look to Yakov, his adviser got the message, and walked back inside.

"Viktor Nikiforov," she said his name dryly, "the people of your country are idiots."

That, again, was unexpected. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "See, here's the deal. I'm in charge of harmony, right? Anyway so restoring countries after they've been all war destroyed and stuff is kind of my catch. Prophecy's a prophecy, I'm afraid, ignoring it's gonna be bad."

Viktor realised, at that moment, that he was talking to a goddess rather than a mortal woman. First of all, he was confused as to why he'd received so much immortal attention in the past few days, but he pushed that thought aside, desperate to finally get to the bottom of the situation completely.

"I don't have a choice," he admitted. "The King wants me to get married."

The goddess narrowed her gaze. "I don't see how that adds up to you not having a choice."

He was about to protest that, but the gears began to spin in his mind. "So, if I marry this monster, I'll be saving my home from the wrath of the gods."

Out of nowhere, the dark haired goddess doubled over with laughter. "A monster! Ha! That's _great_. Well, you haven't seen by brother in the mornings yet. You're probably right."

At the word 'brother', Viktor's stomach dropped. If his destined husband was related to the gods, he could be as horrific as the Cyclopes.

She sensed a change in his demeanour. "Yes, go to the cliffs or whatever, and everyone'll be fine."

"Who's this?" The voice of his younger brother alarmed him, and he whipped his head around. Yuri looked moderately angry, only a little less than usual, with his arms folded. Somebody, presumably their mother, had tied his hair up, which made his face look shaper and more adult than usual.

The goddess's eyes widened. "So cute!" He voice raised in pitch as she did so. "He looks just like a young Astraea!"

"Huh?" Yuri gritted.

"What's _your_ name?"

Viktor laughed lightly at his brother's expression. "He's called Yuri."

The goddesses face contorted. "Yuri, eh? Too confusing for me. Hmmm, I'll call you Yurio."

"WHAT!" Yuri shrieked.

She laughed, and turned back to Viktor. "Remember what I told you."

With that, she turned, and disappeared down the hill and into the city seamlessly. Yuri ranted for the next hour or so about how much the women of the village annoyed him all the time, and how Viktor was annoyingly lucky having just gone on a trip. If he was to obey the goddess, Viktor would be taking away any remaining chance of Yuri getting that freedom. Death, Viktor decided, was much worse. That didn't mean he wanted to look at Yuri whilst he ruined his life, though.

After debating about it privately for the remainder of the day, Viktor decided the quicker he left his home, the better. If he were to leave it another few days or so, the combined efforts of his father and Yakov would likely mean something irreversible would be set in motion. He also concluded that it would be best if he told nobody where he was going, so that perhaps they'd assume him dead. Though it wasn't something he wanted to do to his family, it would at least allow them to move on with their lives in a way that him simply being missing couldn't.

He almost sobbed as he stroked Makkachin on the head. Of course, he couldn't take his beloved dog with him to a place potentially so dangerous. In fact, he decided that beside his sword and the clothes he was wearing, he wouldn't bring any possessions. Makkachin rolled over happily on the bed, and yapped his confusion when Viktor didn't go up to him.

He jumped down, and up against Viktor's legs in question.

Viktor crouched down and hugged him tight. "Poor boy, I have to say goodbye to you now."

In response, he licked Viktor's face.

"T-take good care of Yuri and Mila for me, yes? They're going to need cuddles from you."

He forced himself to leave his childhood bedroom for the last time, ignoring Makkachin's pleading whines of confusion. The shock of leaving forever was finally hitting him as he forced his limbs to work, carrying him out of the palace. Thankfully, the guards didn't question him when he commanded them to open the gates up, probably too tired from the late hour to care much.

"Vitya!"

Viktor turned sharply at his trusted advisors voice. "Yakov, I have to do this."

He looked both angry and distraught. "Where are you going?!"

Heart hurting, he held his head high and met his gaze. "There was another part of the prophecy. I'm destined to marry a strange monster, somewhere far away from here."

That truly set him off. "What? Vitya that's crazy! Get back inside, now!"

Not wanting to waste any more time, Viktor threw his arms around Yakov's somewhat stocky form. "You have to promise me that you won't tell anybody. Please, I have to do this. It's better this way."

His brow furrowed. "I won't accept it."

"I don't want to have to do this!"

Yakov looked confused for a moment, until Viktor motioned some of the guards. Though Yakov was remarkably respected within the Kingdom, Viktor had the all important royal blood flowing through his veins, and that's all that mattered sometimes. Having too much pride to be dragged kicking and screaming, Yakov admitted his defeat, and the gates shut between them.

The mountain he'd assumed the prophecy had referenced wasn't a far walk at all. He had, however, never attempted to climb it before. Though, he was thankfully physically fit, and made his way up with a good pace. Taking regular breaks, and not exerting himself to the point of injury, the dawn was just breaking by the time he reached the summit, panting slightly.

"Oh!" A high pitched, yet vaguely male voice trilled. "Yuuri was right! Yuuri's always right, but he was extra _extra_ right!"

The lack of body frightened Viktor, but he had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

As if the voice had sensed this, a tiny body materialised out of thin air. "Sorry! I'm meant to be making a good impression! Minami, at your service! Well, you kind of call me Zephyr sometimes, but a bunch of us all had this pact that we preferred mortal names and I joined in but anyway, I'm the God of the West Wind!"

To emphasise his position, the breeze swirled around his form. Viktor breathed a sigh of relief, though the god looked incredibly young. "So," he said, "I have to marry you now?"

"No!" He shrieked. "Just my master. Me and Yuuri go _way_ back. I'm just… delivering you!"

"Oh," Viktor said. "Okay."

Minami grinned and twirled in the air. "It's going to be so perfect! I'm taking you to Yuuri's prettiest island. I think you'll like it!" He took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

Though, he didn't wait until Viktor gave his answer, and suddenly, Viktor found that he was floating in mid-air, which was more than just a little terrifying. After a slightly uncharacteristic scream of terror, his heart rate began to level again, and he realised how pleasant the feeling was, not too dissimilar from swimming. Without trying too, Viktor found he was moving, following Minami's form at a fast pace, flying straight above the city.

"I'm just carrying you on the stream of the wind," Minami explained, "cool, right?!"

Deciding he could perhaps trust the god, Viktor allowed himself to relax fully, stretching his limbs out. Because it felt like swimming, he decided to mimic some of the common strokes, delighted in the feeling. Though he was aware he wasn't controlling the flying, that way at least felt like he was. Everything felt frighteningly magical, like he was living a life no other mortal could dream of. He laughed as they passed by fluffy clouds, which he skimmed his fingers through. Minami pointed out all kinds of sights with excitement, but Viktor was barely listening.

When they reached the sea, he basked in the warmth and the slight salty twinge the air had about it. He lay out on his back, letting the wind take him as he shut his eyes for a few moments. Suddenly, the ride began to get a little bumpy, and Viktor realised they were going down at an alarming speed. He had nothing to hold onto as they crashed down, landing roughly on the sand of a glorious beach. Thankfully, Minami offered his hand.

"Alright, I'm needed for a storm right now," he said lightly, "but the house is that way," he pointed vaguely up a hill.

When Viktor turned around, Minami had disappeared, leaving him entirely alone on this strange island. With no motivation to mope like a lost sailor, Viktor followed his instruction, and explored the island in the general direction the wind god had pointed him in. It was absolutely nothing like home. Everything felt wilder and authentically natural. Though there was a slight indent suggesting people had walked there in the grass, there didn't seem to be any real roads. Surrounding him were trees and fruits that he didn't recognise in the slightest. Some of them were full of the most magnificent pink blossoms, shining in the sunlight.

As he marvelled at his surroundings, he finally came in sight of a somewhat rustic looking building, architecturally different from the cities he'd grown accustomed to. Seeing no better option, Viktor quickly combed his hair with his fingers and knocked on the door. There was some shuffling inside, before finally it was swung open, and Viktor was face to face with an older woman.

"Hello," he tried, "my name's Viktor and I was sent here to find my husband."

The woman smiled brightly and captured him in a harsh hug. "Of course you are! We've been expecting you. Come, come…" she looked him over. "Don't you have any belongings?"

Suddenly, he felt a little self-conscious. "I wasn't sure where I'd be going. I don't know where I am, actually."

"Hastesu!" She told him cheerfully. "Oh, you must take a bath in the hot springs. It's nothing like anything the mortals have. I'll take you right away!"

Viktor was about to happily follow, sweaty and somewhat grimy from his night of climbing, but he stopped himself. "What about my _husband_?"

The woman nodded casually. "Yes, Yuuri, he's practically our son."

"Hiroko!" A man of around the same age joined the pair of them. "You'll overwhelm him."

"Your son?" Viktor asked.

The man offered him some kind of drink, which Viktor politely accepted. "Our Yuuri was cursed at a point with childhood. We raised him as a helpless infant, and he gave us the island as a gift as a thank you."

He sipped the drink. This Yuuri couldn't be too bad, from all accounts. And with the beauty of the island, and the kindness of the people, Viktor considered that he could easily be happy here. He allowed Hiroko to lead him through the building, and sacrificed his clothes to her the moment he caught sight of the bubbling water. She was right, he found, as he settled neck deep into the spring. This was _heavenly_.

 _V-Viktor_ , a ghostly voice came out of nowhere, jolting him out of relaxation. _What are you doing here?_


	4. The Sound Of Silence

"So," Viktor tapped his foot, looking between Hiroko and Toshiya. "Does Yuuri come here often?"

Toshiya considered him for a moment. "Sometimes."

"Every time he does," Hiroko said, "he always apologises for being away so long."

Viktor chewed his bottom lip. Though all he had of his destined husband was the briefest of all questions, which had lead him to (presumably) run away in terror at Viktor's answer. Maybe, he thought, Yuuri had a more passive role in this fate than Viktor had considered. After that brief interaction, Viktor had been left alone to soak in the springs for a while. If the rest of the island was as good as those springs, he was going to thoroughly enjoy his life here, absent husband or not.

Though it was still light out, the owners of this strange place sensed Viktor's exhaustion (he had, after all, just scaled a large mountain), and lead him to a decent sized room. Although he wanted to be polite to them, and to find out as much information as possible, Viktor could feel his eyelids getting progressively heavier. It was all he could do to brush them off when they apologised for not having an actual bed for him to sleep on.

When he was finally alone, lying on the _mat_ that they had provided, Viktor realised that he was lonely for the first time. He had never considered himself one for homesickness, but without Makkachin to hold onto, it was almost as if he'd somehow lost his grip on reality itself (magically flying to a lush island also contributed to that nasty reality loss). It was just him and the darkness of the room. He clutched the sheet tightly, in a wild attempt to make up for lost space.

"Yuuri! Come on! I said I was sorry!" Phichit set his paint brush down, having completed the same self-portrait for the eighty ninth time in a row.

Yuuri stalked around the room, ignoring his request. "I just don't believe you!"

"I get it!" Phichit complained, admiring the image he'd painted. Yuuri was absolutely cruel, making him fall in love with his own face enough that we was compelled to sketch it over and over again.

He snapped around, then, glaring at his friend. "Who gives someone a fake prophecy and kidnaps them!? Who does that?"

Phichit rolled his eyes. "Well I'm not the one who's the god of matchmaking!"

"Exactly!" Yuuri said.

"Wait!" Phichit said in alarm. "But Yuuri! He's absolutely perfect for you!" When Yuuri remained silent, Phichit decided to continue. "Honestly, Yuuri! His name's Viktor Nikiforov, he's a prince, he likes long walks by the ocean and-"

"Do you want to paint yourself more?!" Yuuri snapped.

Phichit pouted. "Fine. But you can't just leave the poor man there."

Yuuri forced himself to stop seething for a moment and considered the reality of the situation. As much as he hated it, Phichit had a point. Whether he liked it or not, he'd been thrust into the role of 'host' and was therefore bound by the sacred laws to at the very least provide Viktor with a viable way home. As Yuuri summoned his wings into view, Phichit made a high pitched excited noise, which he ignored in favour of reaching the island as soon as possible.

Hasetsu always put Yuuri in a good mood, even in this situation, stretching out to his wings to their full span was a relief as he glided around the summit of the hill. Perhaps it didn't really make all that much sense, but this place always seemed to feel like coming home. Yuuri sighed at that thought, beating his wings to keep balance. The mortal world, he'd always thought, seemed like it would be much better than the immortal one to live in.

Finally, he came to the balcony attached to the room Viktor had been given to sleep in. It was just the start of the early nightfall, and the moon was peeling out between the clouds. The effect of the light from it caused a subtle beam to pool through the room, like some kind of direct point to where Viktor was sleeping. Yuuri's heart caught in his throat for a second time. Though the love arrow had worn off already, it couldn't take away Viktor's effortless beauty if it had tried. He lay stretched out with only the thinnest of sheets covering his form, ethereal silver locks spread out in the mess of sleep.

It was a good thing Yuuri hadn't bought his arrows with him.

The thought frightened him, but Yuuri realised that he really didn't want to send Viktor away. It made him feel sick, even, that he was literally considering trapping a poor defenceless mortal on an island for the rest of his life, only so that Yuuri could look at him. Doing such a thing would make him no better than the other gods whose actions and indiscretions he despised so much. But, every time Viktor gave a little sigh in his sleep, chest heaving up and down so nicely, Yuuri felt his knees go all weak. His wings felt the same sentiment, and flapped wildly against his control. The sudden gust caused by them blasted into the room, knocking against the walls. Within seconds, Viktor was sitting up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

He acted immediately. Firstly, he willed his wings into non-existence, but with no way to make himself incorporeal quickly, the next best thing was throwing himself in the shadows, using what little godly influence he could do draw them up around him, concealing him so that he was barely even a silhouette.

"Hello?" Viktor mumbled. "Who's there?"

Yuuri drew in his breath a little too quickly, causing Viktor to shift like he was about to stand up and investigate. "Stay still!" He commanded out of fear.

The mortal's form went static for a moment, but then relaxed in position. "Are you Yuuri?" he whispered into the thin air.

Yuuri was thankful, at least, that Viktor had been introduced to him with his chosen mortal styled name, rather than his godly one. It would surely make whatever was about to follow would be a lot easier, if Viktor didn't know his true identity. Something about Viktor was incredibly odd though, and he couldn't see how even his immortality would shift the balance of power, could change how he was currently pressed up back against the wall helplessly.

"Yes," he finally let out.

Viktor's bright cerulean eyes blinked, trying to make out his form in the darkness. "Your voice sounds different."

It was such a simple and nonchalant statement that Yuuri felt the need to melt into the floorboards.

"I'm speaking with my physical body," he explained. "Earlier it was different. It's, uh, really hard to explain."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Like you were speaking inside my mind?"

"K-kind of?"

He nodded his acceptance of that. "Well, Yuuri… can I call you Yuuri?"

Biting his lip, Yuuri felt himself blush. His name sounded so good on this man's lips. "You can call me whatever you want!" He responded quickly, just a little bit too sharp to be natural.

"It seems," Viktor lowered his gaze, "that we're fated to be together."

The guilt rose once more. How on any plain of Earth could Yuuri even begin to explain the situation? How could he explain that Viktor had been sent all the way here for no real purpose other than Phichit trying to be 'supportive'? And most of all, how could Yuuri explain anything considering how much he wanted Viktor to stay?

"Viktor," he tried to say gently, "there's nothing forcing you to be here."

His reaction shook Yuuri to his core. If he didn't know better, Viktor looked almost disappointed. "But the prophecy…"

"I promise," Yuuri continued, "that nothing bad would happen if you went home."

Before he could stop him, Viktor shifted again, and got to his feet, though he didn't approach where Yuuri was concealing himself. "What if I want to stay?"

Yuuri didn't have an answer for that. He hadn't even considered the idea of Viktor actually wanting to stay here, with him, was even a possibility. The guilt was still there, even if the clear consent had been given. Viktor still only know a small amount of the actual situation. But then something else came to mind. How could Yuuri actually guarantee Viktor's safety back amongst the mortals? He, after all, had started this mess by disobeying Aphrodite. If she ever found out he was still at home, she'd probably kill Viktor out of spite, and force Yuuri to watch. It was never Viktor she'd hated, only the effect he'd had on her own followers. Letting him stay on Hasetsu would guarantee his protection, and fulfil her request. If Aphrodite wanted him to live his life with a monster, then Yuuri himself was possibly one of the worst monsters of all.

"Okay," he said finally, but then nerves got the better of him. "But you can't look at me."

Viktor looked absolutely perplexed, making his features shift with beauty equal to his resting face. "What?"

Yuuri had to commit to the request now. "You can't look at me," he repeated. "If you live here, then you have to trust me."

There was that disappointment again. "But- you're my husband now! How can we be _married_ without me even seeing you?!"

Coldness flushed through his veins, and he forced himself to remain firm. "I'm going to be busy," he informed him.

"What?!" He sounded angry. "So you're just going to leave me here?!"

Yuuri cringed, and dropped his head, before finally willing himself invisible once more.

 _I'm sorry, Viktor_.

"Wait!"

He left the room with haste.

Angry wasn't the right word to describe Viktor's emotional thought process when he woke up the next morning. No, it was something a lot more like disappointment mixed with confusions. Although the idea of marrying a _monster_ had been an intimidating one, from what he'd heard Yuuri had seemed like a semi balanced individual. At least better than the crowds he'd become so used to back at home. Yuuri in actuality was like one extreme to the other, from being obsessively wanted to being pushed aside like he was nothing more than a fleck of dirt. It was, at least, refreshing, he could admit.

Perhaps it would be for the best if he just went home, so long as Yuuri was right that no harm would come from it. But he had meant it when he'd said he didn't want to go back there. A life physically alone on an island in the middle of nowhere was still better than a meaningless life surrounded by a crowd of fans and worshipers, alone in a completely different sense entirely. At least here, he wouldn't be tempted to trick himself into believing he had company. Still, that didn't stop him from missing the familiarity of his bedroom, and bustling sounds of the city, and of course his Makkachin.

The lump in his throat grew even further when he tried on the robes Hiroko had brought in for him at the break of dawn. They felt like a cloud was kissing his skin, soft silk even he as a prince couldn't dream of owning. And, whilst he liked the style and fit of them, they were completely unfamiliar. His old clothes had been the only link back to his home he even had, and now they were stripped away.

With nothing better to do, he ventured out to the balcony. From the height of the building, it felt like he could truly see every tiny detail. Like some kind of Paradise on Earth. It wasn't entirely quiet, either, as the soft chirps of birds and other wildlife filled the silence. Clearly, then, he realised that it was a blessing to even be allowed here. He was going to try as hard as he could to make the best of the place. It would be crazy not to enjoy an effortless life surrounded by peace and beauty from all horizons. Wasn't that ideal for any sane person?

Cheerfully, or as cheerfully as he could convince himself he was, he came downstairs. Instantly, his nostrils filled with the scent of fresh food cooking. Responding to that, his stomach naturally began to clench and growl, announcing his presence. On some kind of cue, the two of them popped out from the maze of rooms, both carrying masses bowls.

"Good morning!" Toshiya said enthusiastically.

Hiroko laid the bowls, all filled with different delicacies, out in front of him. "We didn't know what kind of food you liked!"

Viktor eyed up his options. "Can I try everything?"

She blushed, obviously taking it as a compliment. "Of course!"

"Yuuri will come around," Toshiya said, touching his wife's arm sweetly.

He smiled politely at that, but didn't reply, and instead decided to distract himself with the wonderful meal in front of him. Before he even knew what had happened, he'd gone through them all, in awe of the god-like cooking that had been displayed. He had a lot of respect for the servants who worked hard in the palace, but nothing he'd tasted in all his years could even come close. The two of them seemed to be making notes as he ate, figuring out what he liked most.

"Thank you," he said finally, pushing the empty bowl in front of him. "I've never tasted anything like it."

After that whole affair, Viktor was left entirely to his own devices. So, with no better way to spend his time, he decided to explore his surroundings. He decided to leave the home for another time, however, worried about invading their privacy. The first course of action was to backtrack his way to the beach where the wind spirit had left him. Much fuller of energy this time, the journey didn't seem even half as long as it had before, and was actually pretty pleasant. He wondered, as he came down the hill, whether any of the fruit and other plants were safe to eat (a question he'd rather save for later than risk). Everything seemed so warm and inviting, and smelled incredible.

As soon as he set foot on the beach, he discarded the sandal type shoe he'd been provided with in favour of curling his toes in the sand. It was the perfect sensation underneath his bare feet; warm without being scalding, and wonderfully smooth. The beach actually went on for a great distance, so he was walking for long enough that the sun began to shine at its full strength. When it got just that little bit too hot, he found that walking with his feet just slightly submerged in the ocean was a whole new kind of perfection all together.

At least, he realised, exploring the entirety of the island would take weeks. It was something to do, rather than face an eternity of sitting around. Eventually, he abandoned the beach in favour of a promising looking river. He knew from the most basic principles that rivers, generally, lead to high ground, and that's therefore where he should head. The island thickened out after that decision, quickly filling with a forest. Still, he stuck by the course of the river almost religiously, right up until he heard the unmistakable crushing sound of a waterfall.

Drawing him in, Viktor marvelled at the sight of it. So untouched by anything, it was astonishing. Rough and unforgiving, but weirdly beautiful. The deafening sound, all things considered, was rather comforting to him, and he found himself resting comfortably there. It drowned out his many thoughts, kept him grounded as the vibrations it caused massaged his back. There was something about it, something so effortlessly powerful, that Viktor wished he could be. Could have been.

When the darkness began to fall over the island, Viktor attempted to make a quick a work as possible of finding his way back. Though this place seemed like Paradise, he couldn't completely trust his safety yet. Thankfully, of all the things he could have been bad at, navigation wasn't one of them. It really was simple, once he found his way out of the tree line, to simply head for the highest point of the island. By the time he let himself into the house, though, it was late enough that there was no sign of any life, and everything was shrouded in darkness.

"Viktor."

Viktor yelped and grabbed for the closest object (which happened to be a fan).

"Sorry! Sorry!" That tauntingly familiar voice called out. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

Although he was still feeling horribly dejected after the whole conversation from the night before, Viktor relaxed, dropping the 'weapon'. "I'm okay."

"Good," Yuuri said, cautious in his tone. "Viktor, I-I came here to tell you that you can have anything whilst you're here."

 _Anything except you, apparently_ , Viktor thought.

"Yuuri," he tried, scanning around the room for clues of the man's position. Finally, he caught a shadowy figure in the corner. He could tell nothing of Yuuri's form from it at all. "Can I ask you one question?"

"Yes."

Viktor looked down. " _Why_ don't you want me to look at you?"

Yuuri hesitated before answering. "You heard the prophecy. I'm a hideous monster."

It was almost laughable. "I don't care," Viktor said quickly.

" _I_ care." Yuuri sighed. "Anything else," he said, "just not that."

"Anything?" Viktor asked quietly.

He could feel what he imagined was a soft smile from across the room. "You have my oath."

Declaring an oath was serious business, Viktor knew. The fact that Yuuri had done it at least showed a little bit of trust and respect, that even despite his earlier coldness, he could appreciate.

"I have a dog," he begun. "His name's Makkachin and I really miss him."

 _Silence._ Silence for so long that it was pregnant in the atmosphere.

"It's done."

And like that, Viktor knew that he was alone again once more.


End file.
